


Now I'm Counting to Fifteen

by Ellie_East



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Caught in the Act, Fluff, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Smut, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8224613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie_East/pseuds/Ellie_East
Summary: Stiles just wants cereal, Derek just wants Stiles and the rest of the pack want their innocence back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> IDK this just fell out of my brain - enjoy!

"Stiles. Hush." The alpha all but growls it into the soft skin of his mates neck. His lips as light as a feather send chills down the human's spine. 

 

"You're tickling me dimwit," is the human's breathy reply. Derek currently has him pinned against their kitchen bench with his entire body weight as his hands go walkabout. Honestly, they're just leaving a shivering trail of destruction, and weak knees, in their wake. 

 

Stiles original plan was to slyly sneak into the kitchen and pinch the last Captain Crunch they had before the betas returned home from their "night run". And by night run he means their wolfsbane infused drinking session over the reserve lookout. 

 

Yet, of course the second the freckled boy moved so much as an inch out of the sourwolf's bed, glowing red orbs were blinking open at him. Now, two abandoned bowls of dry cereal lie on the counter in front of them and Stiles is trapped in a deadly snare. 

 

The alpha hugs his mate even tighter as a slight draft blows in through the kitchen window. The larger man is in nothing but a loose pair of cotton pyjama pants and Stiles isn't any better off. At least he managed to tug one of his old baggy white tshirts on over his dark boxer briefs. They really could be doing all of this in the alphas cozy ass bed upstairs. But apparently Derek's set on being a creeper tonight.

Stiles is quite literally pinned now with Derek's solid chest pressing into his curved back and broad arms wrapping around his middle. All the human can do is grip the kitchen bench with white knuckles as Derek's fingers begin to brush their way into his danger zones. As the alphas left hand makes a beeline right under Stiles thin shirt, happily splaying his fingers over tender flesh, his right makes a dive for the band of Stiles of underwear.

 

"Derek," Stiles whispers, not sure himself if the half moan is meant as a warning or encouragement. "There's gonna be several drunk supernatural teens pouring into this room any moment now."

 

The alphas hungry hands obliviously keep to their track.

 

"So be it." Derek mutters in the dip of Stiles throat, his 12 o'clock shadow catching on the sensitive skin. He couldn't care less. Stiles is _**his**_. His mate. Stiles chose him. His pack. 

 

He can't help he gets an overwhelming need to show his love and affection at 2 in the morning. He may be the big bad wolf but even his betas need to see he's got a different, softer, side every once in a while. Even if it only does ever come out with the lanky human around. 

 

So twenty minutes later when Scott, Malia, Lydia and Isaac attempt to sneak into the kitchen unnoticed, they're abruptly greeted by the sight of quivering pale thighs and stark purpling bruises as Derek all but pulls his mate undone over there breakfast island.

 

~ 

Bonus: 

The betas reactions all stumble through at about the same time with varying levels of horror and disgust.

 

"FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK GUYS!  PLEASE EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO BLIND MYSELF!" From Scott.

 

"REALLY DEREK? We eat in here damnit!" As Lydia's tired reaction.

 

"I can't tell if I'm too drunk or not drunk enough for this level of trauma." Is all Malia can claim as she tumbles up the stairs.

 

And last but not least Isaac being his usual self with "I'm not gonna lie that's pretty hot-oh Jesus, growling is a thing." 


End file.
